


Brownsorrow

by kitkatkaylie



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Crack, Fluff, Minor Theon Greyjoy/Robb Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:27:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28050132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitkatkaylie/pseuds/kitkatkaylie
Summary: Catelyn sometimes wondered just how stupid her children thought she was. Especially as she looked upon her eldest son’s plan to save his best friend from death...
Kudos: 29





	Brownsorrow

Catelyn sometimes wondered just how stupid her children thought she was. Robb especially seemed to think she was particularly unintelligent if his latest scheme was any indication. 

Oh, she had known he would do _something_ when the news of Balon Greyjoy’s rebellion had arrived; that he would find some way to keep from having to execute Theon Greyjoy.

She had not expected it would be so asinine though. 

“Robb.” Catelyn sighed and pinched her nose, “Robb, please tell me that the person next to you is not just Theon Greyjoy with his hair dyed.”

Robb grinned at her and rocked on his heels, “Why, mother, I am shocked!” He placed his hand over his heart, “This is obviously my good friend from Essos: Theon Brownsorrow. No relation whatsoever to Theon Greyjoy.”

Catelyn had to close her eyes and take a couple of deep breaths. She was pretty sure that her son had come up with this plan while he was drunk; it was the only explanation.

Theon smirked at her and bowed, an ostentatious bow that seemed more suited to a Southern Court than the mud of a Northern camp. His bleached hair flopping in front of his face, the almost Targaryen-blond strands jarring where she expected to see his usual brown shade. 

“I am flattered, my lady, that you think I look anywhere near as handsome and dashing as Theon Greyjoy.” 

Catelyn glared at him, there was no way that their stupid plan would ever work. They would fail and she would have to comfort her son after he was forced to take the head of his best friend.

“This is not going to work.” She said flatly, looking Robb directly in the eye, “You’d be better off putting him on a ship tonight and sending him to his family before the lords get a hold of him. Lord Glover is already baying for his blood, and I think the Greatjon is nearly ready to take up his own sword and do the deed himself.”

Robb met her gaze steadily, “It will work, Mother, I promise you. And we aren’t stupid enough to not have a back up.”

Catelyn nodded, she would at least hear them out with their plan. “Go on then. Explain this genius plan of yours to me.”

Theon’s teeth flashed at her as he grinned, “None of the lords will kill a bosom friend of theirs, not when they realise he is such a good friend of their king as well. And especially not when he provides them with alcohol better than the pigs piss they are currently drinking.”

Catelyn was surprised by how well thought out this plan appeared to be, there was a chance it could actually work. Bribery and drinking worked well on most men, in Catelyn’s experience.

(Not Ned, never Ned, but then, he had been different.)

“It will take more than alcohol to win over some of the lords.” She warned, unwilling to let them get ahead of themselves, “Lord Bolton in particular will not be so easily gained.”

Robb’s face creased as he smiled, his eyes darting to Theon with a mischief that Catelyn had not realised she had missed. 

“Well, Theon Brownsorrow has an interest in leeches-”

“What?” Theon screeched, cutting off Robb with a look of absolute horror. “I do not!” 

Robb gave Theon a disgruntled look and continued to speak, “As I was saying, Theon Brownsorrow has an interest in leeches, one which he will bond with Lord Bolton over. Lord Bolton will be so overjoyed, as much as he is capable of such a thing, to have someone who shares his passion that he will surely never call for his death.”

She took back every kind thought she had just had of their plan, they were idiots and she was definitely going to have to both comfort Robb and send a letter of condolences to Lady Greyjoy in place of the update she sent regarding Theon’s health every few moons. 

Catelyn pressed her fingers to her temples in an attempt to stave off the headache that wished to burst forth. “Is that the entirety of your plan? Alcohol, hair dye, and a knowledge of leeches which Theon definitely does not have.”

The two boys looked at each other, then back at her and nodded in unison.

“Yes.” 

Well, Catelyn thought in an attempt to comfort herself, at least they had a back up plan.

Suddenly a horrible thought occurred to Catelyn, and she looked between the two boys in horror. 

“Wait, the back up plan isn’t just for Theon to grow a beard is it?”

* * *

The sight that greeted Catelyn as she left her tent that evening was not one she had been expecting at all. There were no tears, no shouting, no blood on the ground, nor swords being waved in the air.

There was almost peace, if one could call the drunken bellowing of the Umbers peaceful.

They were bellows that served as an excellent reference point however, ones that led her straight to their cause.

A cause which turned out to be two very familiar figures, one with hair as red as her own and the other with bleached locks. There were barrels around their feet, and tankards strewn on the floor. And if the ruddy cheeks and cheerful demeanour of the lords was any indication then the barrels were likely near empty already.

“To - _hic-_ To Theon Brownsorrow!” Lord Glover hiccupped, “May he _-hic_ \- live king and - _hic_ \- shower us with more of this _-hic-_ ale!”

His words were met by a loud cheer, tankards raised in appreciation, and slowly widening grins on both Theon and Robb’s faces.

Theon bowed another ridiculously ostentatious bow, remarkably well balanced considering that Cat was sure he had drunk his own fair share. 

“I thank you, my friends, for such a warm welcome!” He called back, only the hint of a slur to betray his drunken state, “I had not heard that the Northern Lords were so accepting of strangers!”

“Only of strangers who bring such fine ale and intelligent conversation.” Lord Bolton said, an actual flush on his normally pale cheeks. “It is not often that one meets a man with such fine taste in ale and leeches alike.” 

One day Catelyn would stop being impressed by Theon’s ability to bullshit his way through any conversation, as he had evidently done while talking with Lord Roose. There was no way that he actually knew anything about leeches, his attention span was far too short for such a subject when Robb was there with offerings of mischief and alcohol. 

(And things that Catelyn most certainly did not want to think about her baby boy doing.)

“Lady Stark,” Patrek Mallister, who Catelyn was certain knew every inch of the boys’ plan and was likely also a conspirator, said suddenly as he leapt to his feet, “I do hope we have not disturbed you with our merriment.” 

He held out a hand to her, an offer to escort her across to one of the benches close to the fire. It was an offer that Catelyn accepted, for she could not leave quietly now she had been seen without likely causing offence to at least one lord.

“My lady,” Lord Karstark bowed in place, “Would you like to partake in this fine ale?”

It would have been rude to refuse, especially when Lord Karstark was already offering her a tankard.

“Thank you, my lord.” Catelyn took a sip of the ale and froze at the familiar flavour. It was the flavour of her childhood, a flavour that brought to mind memories of running through the fields around Riverrun with Lysa and Edmure and Petyr and quenching her thirst with ice cold ale.

She knew exactly where her son had gathered the ale he was using to bribe the lords from. The only real question was whether Edmure knew that his stocks of ale had been pilfered. 

Her brother was grinning happily, swaying in his chair and gulping down his drink. There was a hint of confusion on his face every time he took a gulp which told Catelyn that he likely did _not_ know about his king’s thievery.

Catelyn took another sip and looked around at the joyful lords and the relieved look on Robb and Theon’s faces. She could wait until after the festivities to scold the king for stealing; for despite her own doubts their idiotic plan appeared to have worked.

(She did wonder though, how the lords might take the _close_ friendship between the king and his new friend that resulted in them sharing a tent more often than not. If they were unlucky then the back up plan might truly be needed, and she was sure that a beard would not particularly suit Theon.)


End file.
